Hellbent
by Kalcifier
Summary: Hajime wasn't bitter. Maybe a little frustrated by the way things had turned out, but he thought that was justified. Being able to see magic when you couldn't use it yourself objectively sucked. Seeing all the potential around you, knowing you couldn't compare, was too much to take.
1. In My Body, In My Head

This takes place in the same universe as _I Might Just Disappear_ , but you don't need to read that to understand this fic.

* * *

Hajime wasn't bitter. Maybe a little frustrated by the way things had turned out, but he thought that was justified. Being able to see magic when you couldn't use it yourself objectively sucked. Seeing all the potential around you, knowing you couldn't compare…

But he wasn't bitter. Really. He was still only in high school, there was plenty of time for him to find a teacher. His ability should make it easy. He could already see which of his classmates could use magic, so all he had to do was ask who had taught them.

And then convince their teachers to accept him as a student. Which was the hard part. Most of the magic users he'd heard of only took on one student at a time, so by the time Hajime found out about them, it was already too late. And it wasn't like he had any friends he could ask to recommend him to anyone.

But still! It was fine. He wasn't bitter at all. He'd spent the entire lunch period bent over his desk, mentally reviewing his sorry situation, but that was because he'd wanted to. It had nothing to do with the jealousy that welled up in him when he saw yet another classmate's hands light up with magic while his own remained stubbornly empty. That would be pathetic.

He was pulled from his perfectly reasonable thought process when a piece of paper bounced off his head. "Oi, Hajime!"

Hajime turned around to see who was calling for him. There was a group of boys standing by the window who seemed to be looking at him, so presumably it was one of them, but Hajime couldn't have told you any of their names. There was no way he'd be able to identify them by voice. He focused on the one who seemed to be their leader and hoped for the best. "What?"

The one he was looking at smirked, which seemed like a good sign. "You up for a test of courage?" the boy asked.

"Come on, this is the most boring suburb ever," Hajime said. "There's nowhere around here that would be worth having a test of courage."

"Maybe for a scrub like you," the boy said. "But me and the guys are gonna summon a demon, and we want some witnesses. Unless you're too scared?"

He whipped out a comically evil-looking book. Its cover was black leather embossed with a silver skull and a title in what Hajime thought might be Latin. It had one of those ribbon bookmarks, too, and the boy used it to open to a specific page.

Hajime was prepared to turn around and go back to ignoring his classmates, as per usual, but then he caught a glimpse of the page. His scoff died in his throat. The words seemed to glow as if they contained a green fire, the light shifting enticingly. The ritual was actually magic.

He managed to stammer out a question about when they were planning to do it, but he didn't hear the answer. He was too caught up in his own thoughts. He knew that the ritual being magic didn't necessarily mean it would summon a demon. It could easily have been written as a prank. For all Hajime knew, casting it would create a burst of confetti and an accompanying laugh track.

But if a demon did appear, there was no way these kids would be prepared for it. They were expecting a spooky atmosphere that would let them hype themselves up for mischief. A genuine creature from hell would tear them to shreds. The only responsible thing to do was to stop them.

He turned back to face the blackboard, ignoring the boys' protests. Their opinion of him didn't matter. Hajime knew what he had to do.

Stealing the book from the leader's bag was trivial. He didn't notice it was missing until Hajime had left the building.

His parents wouldn't be home for another few hours, so as soon as he got home, he read through the ritual. It was remarkably straightforward. Most of it was about drawing the right circle and chanting the right words, and while it claimed to require things like the blood of an infant, those parts were dull on the page. The only ingredient that shone like the rest of the ritual was the red candle. Hajime's mother kept one in the kitchen, saying she liked the scent.

Hajime went through the preparations with care. It was easier not to think about what he was doing if he focused on getting the lines of the sigil just right. It didn't help that his room was carpeted, so he had to draw it on taped-together sheets of paper that he then taped to the floor.

He could tell that everything was in place when the circle began to glow with magic. He read over the words one last time, then started to chant. He still nearly lost the thread of the spell when his own hands lit up. Here was everything he'd ever wanted. He could finally prove himself, finally have the powers he'd always dreamed of.

The magic continued to build as he spoke. He almost wished he'd thought to wear sunglasses, but it was far too late to worry about that now. He could only keep reciting the spell.

He delivered the last few syllables with an emphasis that would have been melodramatic in any other situation. The magic flared in response, so bright it blinded him.

When his vision cleared, there was a figure in the center of the circle. Hajime couldn't make out its features past the glow of magic that suffused it. It occurred to him that this was probably the most powerful being he'd ever seen, and that he'd summoned it out of nowhere just because he could. He swallowed thickly.

His anxiety only increased when the maybe-demon addressed him. "What do you want?" it asked. "I'm assuming you called me here for a reason, so spit it out already."

"Um," Hajime said. He tried to come up with an answer that wouldn't get him killed.

It occurred to him that the thing sounded like it was prepared to offer him something. That was how the stories of demons always went, right? And if that was the case, there was only one possible response. "I want to be able to do magic," he said.

"Ah," the demon said. "How boring. But if that's what you want, I can give it to you."

It occurred to Hajime that there was another major plot point in stories about demons. "I'm not going to sell you my soul."

"I wouldn't have asked for it. I have no use for a human soul." Maybe it wasn't a demon, then? Whatever it was, it seemed to be shaking its head. "I just want you to entertain me."

That sounded too easy. Hajime tried to think of how that could be turned around to screw him over. "I won't kill anyone for you. Or torture them, or anything like that. And I won't let you kill or torture me, either."

"That's fine." The creature sounded indifferent. "So do we have a deal?"

"Maybe," Hajime said, trying to sound equally casual. "I'd have to read the fine print before I signed anything."

"Why bother with contracts and signatures? A spoken agreement is enough." The figure's energy, which to this point had been a mossy green, turned blood red. "I, Izuru Kamukura, hereby agree to furnish Hajime Hinata with magical powers unlike any he's ever seen. In exchange, Hajime will be responsible for providing me with entertainment each time he draws on these powers. No humans, including Hajime himself, shall be directly injured or robbed of their soul as a result of this contract. Is this sufficient?"

Hajime tried not to worry about the fact that a possible demon had already known his name. "Y-yeah," he said.

"Then seal the bargain and shake my hand," Izuru said.

Hajime crept to the edge of the circle. This was fine. He'd made sure that no one would be hurt because of this, and while he wasn't sure why Izuru was being so accommodating, it didn't matter. He was going to have power of his own. Everything else was secondary.

He took Izuru's hand and shook it firmly.

There was another flare of magic. This time, Hajime was expecting it, and he managed to close his eyes in time to keep from being blinded. When he opened them again, Izuru was gone, and Hajime felt exactly the same. There was no magic shining under his skin. It hadn't worked after all.

No sooner had he thought the words than he felt a strange sensation, as if he were being kicked out of his own body. He watched his fingers snap as if in a movie. Magic sparked with the motion. A breeze blew through the room, blowing out the candle and tearing the papers from the floor.

And then Hajime was back in control. The magic had already fled from his fingers.

Hajime was pretty sure he should have been freaking out. His body had just moved without his consent, which was the plot of so many horror movies. He should also be elated. He'd managed to use magic, and with a level of power and control he'd never let himself dream of. This was the worst and best day of his life.

And yet, he felt nothing. He might as well have been watching the weather.

He heard Izuru's voice from the back of his mind. "I'd forgotten what intense emotions you teenagers have about everything," it said. "This might not be entirely boring after all."

The implications of its words hit Hajime like a freight train. Izuru's idea of entertainment was stealing emotions, and Hajime had just let it. He wasn't even getting magic of his own out of the bargain. It was all Izuru. Even if no one else knew, even if Hajime got the recognition he'd craved for so long, he would still know that he wasn't anything special. He was the least interesting, least talented, least magical person around, and now he'd shackled himself to a demon for the rest of his life.

The thoughts kept circling in his mind, how he'd ruined everything in a single afternoon. He felt absolutely nothing.


	2. I Share the Lore That I Am Learning

_Several years later..._

The first thing Nagito did when he woke up in the morning was check his luck. It swirled ominously in the corners of his vision, as usual. It was especially thick today. It was also bright red.

He stiffened. Normally, his luck was easy to read. It existed on a spectrum from white to black, good luck to bad, hope to despair. He could look at it and know what to expect. Red luck, on the other hand, was an unknown quantity. When your luck was like Nagito's, that was never a good sign. He couldn't prepare for something he couldn't predict.

His first impulse was to try and wait it out. He'd stay in his room where he wasn't endangering anyone else until things went back to normal.

But he knew better than to try to hide from his luck. He'd learned long ago that there was no way to escape what fate had planned for him. He might as well try to get an education in the meantime.

With that decided, he shut out the wisps of luck and started getting ready for the day.

It didn't take long for him to realize that he shouldn't have bothered. He couldn't focus on anything. His mind kept wandering back to his luck, and he'd check it again, wondering if he'd imagined it. Each time, his vision was suffused with red.

He managed to sit through his first lecture, but when he walked out, he realized he hadn't retained any of it. He wasn't entirely sure that he'd even been in the right room.

He shook his head as if the motion would be enough to clear his mind. This was just getting silly. There was nothing he could do but prepare for the worst, and he couldn't even do that if he let himself get distracted. He needed to pull himself together.

Food would probably help. He'd run out of time getting ready and had to skip breakfast, which couldn't be doing him any favors. He had time to stop by a café before his next class.

He'd just made up his mind when he heard a sharp crack from above him. He looked up to see a tree limb barreling towards him.

The world seemed to stop. His luck bloomed back into view, unable to spare the attention to suppress it. At the same time, he felt strangely detached. At least now he knew what the red luck meant. The knowledge wasn't going to do him much good at this point, but he had it.

He braced for impact.

Several seconds later, his head still felt suspiciously intact. He opened his eyes to see that the branch had stopped in midair. As he watched, it began to rise, reattaching to the tree it had fallen from.

Nagito stared. Had he been hit so hard he was hallucinating? He looked around for an explanation.

What he saw nearly blinded him. A tangle of mossy green light, so bright it crowded out the red luck still lingering in his vision. He shut it all out automatically. What was left was a man about Nagito's age, holding his arm out towards the branch.

Nagito couldn't believe his eyes. Whoever this person was, his luck was strong enough to crowd out even Nagito's own. This was the first time anyone had managed that.

He sprinted over to the man without thinking. He had to know more about him.

The man in question looked entirely ordinary. Even his face was impassive, despite having a stranger barreling towards him with a manic grin. Nagito was distantly aware that he should calm down, but here was someone who might understand. It was more than he could have dared to hope for.

"Hi!" he said as soon as he got within acceptable conversational range. "Thanks for saving me. That was really impressive!"

"I suppose." The man shook his head. "It's not a big deal."

"Easy for you to say. You weren't the one convinced you were going to die." Nagito's first impulse was to joke about how that might not have been so bad, but that was a good way to stop a conversation in its tracks, as he'd learned from experience. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally drive the stranger away with tasteless jokes. "So do you do this a lot?" he asked instead. "I mean, you seem kind of bored by the whole thing."

"It'll pass in the next hour or so," the man said. "My emotions generally don't stay gone for long. Not for something that simple, at least."

"Okay!" Nagito had no idea what that meant, but it didn't matter, because it was an opening that he could take advantage of. "In that case, let me buy you lunch. I feel weird thanking you when you can't really accept it."

"What a strange philosophy." The man shrugged. "But if you insist, I'll hardly refuse a free meal."

Nagito laughed. "All right then." He was about to start walking when he realized he still hadn't introduced himself. "I'm Nagito, by the way."

"Hajime," apparently-Hajime said.

"Alright, Hajime, allow me to treat you to the finest food a broke college student can afford." Nagito indicated the direction with a flourish, and they set off.

Now that the immediate niceties were out of the way, Nagito took a moment to gather his thoughts. Their time together was limited, and Nagito had so many questions for Hajime. He needed to organize them into something coherent.

He glanced at Hajime's luck again, hoping that would help him focus. All he saw was his own. The redness of it felt like a taunt.

Well, if nothing else, it meant that Nagito knew what his first question was. Could someone's luck be shut off, and if you could, why would you? Or had Hajime hidden his somehow? Did he know that Nagito could see it?

Whatever the case, he refused to believe that luck as strong as that he'd seen around Hajime had just been a coincidence. There had to be some meaning behind it.

His mind made up, Nagito asked, "What happened back there? You had all this luck gathered around you, and now it's gone, and you're just another ordinary person."

Hajime didn't seem surprised at suddenly being addressed. Nagito supposed he wouldn't, since apparently he couldn't feel anything. He'd be more curious if it wasn't for everything else about Hajime. "I don't see how that's any of your business," Hajime said.

"Fair enough. I don't mean to pry." Nagito laughed to conceal his disappointment. He'd gotten confirmation that Hajime knew what he was talking about, at least. His manipulation of his luck had been intentional. It was a start. He'd just have to be more subtle next time. He was sure he could find a way to get Hajime to talk.

He hadn't realized how long he'd spent thinking about it until they arrived at the café. Hajime didn't seem concerned by his sudden silence, at least. Nagito still gave a vague excuse about being preoccupied, which wasn't a lie.

They placed their orders at the counter, then stepped back to wait for their food. It seemed like as good a time as any to try again, if only to avoid getting lost in his own head again. "That was much easier than I would have expected," Nagito said, testing the waters. "I mean, if you don't have any emotions, how do you know what you want?"

"It's really not that complicated. I can remember what I've liked in the past, so I simply order that. If my emotions return while I'm eating, I have something I enjoy, and if not then it's all the same and I've lost nothing," Hajime said. "I have been dealing with this for a while now. Rather like you've learned how to accommodate your curiosity about strangers, I'd imagine."

"Haha, you got me." Nagito held up his hands in mock surrender. "But can you blame me for being curious? You did save my life, after all."

"That hardly puts you in a position to ask more from me." Hajime shook his head. "Well, it's not like I care. Just think of it as advice for the future."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I'm in mortal danger." Nagito would have been happy to continue the bit, but was interrupted when he heard their number being called at the counter. "Oh, I think that's us."

They picked up their food. Nagito took it as a chance to check Hajime's luck again, just in case. It was still invisible behind Nagito's. Now that he was paying attention, though, he saw that his own luck had lightened to a rich pink. Whatever had turned it red was gone.

He'd just banished the threads from his vision when Hajime flinched. "I knew that wouldn't be very hard for you, you liar," he muttered. The vindictive pleasure filling his voice was a far cry from his previous monotone.

Nagito made a questioning sound, and Hajime flushed. "Sorry about that. The transition can be a little weird." He coughed. "By the way, I don't know if I've said it yet, so, uh. Thanks for lunch."

"It was my pleasure!" Nagito said. "I'm just glad you didn't hurt yourself trying to save me. I'm really not worth it."

"Don't be stupid. Even if that were true, I knew what would happen, and I chose to help you anyway." Hajime hesitated. Nagito leaned in closer, coaxing him to continue. Maybe now that his emotions were back, Hajime would be willing to explain how he'd amplified his luck like that.

He changed the subject instead. "You know, you seem really calm for someone who nearly died like half an hour ago. Are you sure you're alright?"

Nagito waved a hand dismissively. "I'm fine. I knew something big was going to happen today, and I'm just glad to have it over with. It's hardly the first time my luck has caused problems for me." And now Hajime looked alarmed. Nagito rushed to reassure him. "Really, it's not that bad."

"Are you sure? Because if danger like that is normal, it sounds pretty bad." Hajime sounded genuinely concerned.

Nagito stifled a groan. Goddammit, the last thing he wanted was to talk about himself. It was unproductive and would probably end up scaring Hajime away. Then no one would be happy. "I wouldn't say it's any worse than suddenly losing your emotions," he said.

Hajime's expression darkened. "I see."

They ate silently for a moment. Nagito was about to ask another question when Hajime beat him to it. "Are you a student here?"

Ah, so it was time for the standard college small talk. Nagito could work with that. "Yeah, I'm a sophomore. I still haven't declared a major, though. How about you?"

"Yeah, me too," Hajime said. "I feel like I'm running out of time, but I just don't know what I want to do."

Nagito wondered why Hajime was bothering. With power like his, he wouldn't have any trouble finding a job with a degree in playing video games. Even if he didn't want to do magical work, his luck should let him do anything he wanted.

Pressing would probably lead to another awkward silence, though, so all Nagito said was, "I know what you mean. I don't want to be that one junior sitting in a class full of freshmen."

"Thank you!" Hajime's response was immediate and emphatic. "It feels like all my friends have known what they want to do with their lives since grade school, and here I am, without any sort of talent or calling."

Nagito nodded. "It doesn't help when the things you're good at aren't exactly things you can study."

He hadn't meant for them to keep going with that topic, but it turned out that Hajime had a lot of strong feelings and was ready to voice them all. Nagito found himself getting drawn into the conversation almost against his will. Hajime kept making points that Nagito hadn't considered, and then he'd have to respond, and then they'd spend another five minutes talking about something completely unrelated to luck or magic.

He did glance at their luck occasionally, wondering if Hajime's was just tied to emotion. He wasn't surprised when all he saw was his own.

He was surprised when his phone buzzed with a reminder to head to his next class. He'd been sitting with Hajime for two hours, and he still wasn't any closer to understanding him than he'd been when they walked in. Nagito couldn't even bring himself to be mad. He was just that much more determined to figure him out. And if that meant more conversations like this one, Nagito wouldn't complain.

He waited for Hajime to finish making his point about the yakuza (and how had they gotten onto that subject, again?), then shook his head ruefully. "I'm not sure I agree, but I don't have time to explain. I've got to get to class."

He was weirdly gratified by the way Hajime's face fell. It was good to know he hadn't been grudgingly tolerating him. "Alright," Hajime said. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too." Nagito went to stand up, but stopped with his hands still on the table. He didn't want to let things end here, and while normally he'd trust his luck to bring them back together, he didn't know how Hajime's luck might interfere. "Actually," he said, "Can I get your number really quickly? I'd love to continue this conversation some other time."

"Huh?" Hajime looked vaguely startled by the suggestion. "Uh, yeah, alright. Give me a second." He got out his phone and they traded numbers. Then Nagito really did leave.

He was in such a good mood he had to check his luck again as soon as he got out of the café. Anything that made him this happy had to be building up to a disaster, and he might as well get it out of the way.

His luck was the same light grey as the clouds overhead. All Nagito could think was that the bad luck of almost dying had been enough to cancel out the good luck of meeting Hajime and getting his number. Whatever the reason, the near future was looking bright. Maybe Nagito would get his answers after all.

In the end, he couldn't focus on his next class, either. He didn't really mind.


End file.
